In plain words
Do not strike me with words, Rāṇājī. Here, take your country. Mīrā came down from the palace, among some seven companions. At play she found a pebble, and served it as a śālagrām. The sādhus came as guests to Mīrā's court. She gave them a carpet to sit on, and a cot she set out and gave. The Rāṇā sent a cup of poison: give it to Mīrā to drink. Mīrā made it caraṇāmṛt and drank it down. You know it, lord of the destitute. The Rāṇā sent a basket with a snake in it: go and give it to Mīrā. She made an ornament of it and put it on, and it turned into a nine-strand necklace. The Rāṇā sent a paper: go and give it to Mīrā. Give up the company of the sādhus. Mīrā, sit among the queens. The Rāṇā drew a dagger and sent it, and sent a sword after it. Of one Mīrā I will make two, and out of the two she became four. The Rāṇā speaks to Mīrā and says: what manner of Bhagavān is this of yours? I will give up the kingdom and the throne, all of it; I too will sing Bhagavān. A loose dye flies off, sir; a dye set fast does not go. The colour on Mīrā is Gopāl's, sir; there is no coming off it now.